Forbidden Corridor
by Sydella Shields
Summary: Set in Harry's first year, the return of Professor Quirrell has the students who knew him best, before his travels, confused as to what or even who has changed him. Please R&R!
1. The Return

Forbidden Corridor

By Sydella Shields

_BETA Read by: Black Angel_

Chapter One: The Return

It was exactly eleven am on September the first, and the students both new and old were setting off on their journey to a new year at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They were aboard a bright red train called the Hogwarts Express, and in one of its compartments sat two fifth-year girls from Gryffindor house, known for its students' courage and bravery. The girl on the left was twirling her long hair around her finger, as she stared blankly out of the window.

"Angelica, it's true, he _is_ coming back," said her friend Fiona.

"I-I know, it's just... I don't know what I'll say or if he knows who I am anymore," Angelica replied moving her gaze back to her friend.

Fiona sighed deeply. "You were his prized student! He couldn't forget you," she said reassuringly.

Of course she was right. Angelica Morrissey had fallen in love at first sight with her Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, the very young, timid Professor Quirinus Quirrell. Just the thought of him made her cheeks go deep red. But then after her third year he went on leave to study around the world. Although Angelica had never confessed her love to him, they did have a closer bond than just student and professor, and he subtly defended her when many of her schoolmates developed the habit of ridiculing her, or worse, ignoring her entirely. They even kept up correspondence during part of his time away, though his letters stopped coming many months ago.

Just then, a tall, skinny boy with long blond hair (also a fifth-year in Gryffindor), came in the compartment.

"What's wrong, Angie?" Jonathan asked, concerned.

"Ah, I - nothing. I've just been thinking too much."

A jolly old woman pulled up to the door with a rattling cart full of sweets, but not just ordinary sweets, wizarding ones. For a moment a smile flickered across Angelica's face and she walked over to the lady before she could ask what they would like. "Um, two Pumpkin Pasties and four Chocolate Frogs," she said, handing over her payment. "Do you guys want anything?"

Jonathan and Fiona shook their heads with a slight snicker.

"Thank you," Angelica told the woman before returning to her seat. "The chocolate should make me feel better. I read about that remedy somewhere," she mumbled and started to eat

When they got to Hogwarts they spotted many familiar faces and many new ones too. They traveled from the station to the school in musty, old, carriages - four students to one carriage, so their friend Alicia Spinnet, who was the reserve Chaser on their house Quidditch team, joined them.

"Have you seen him yet?" she asked excitedly.

"Who?" Fiona wondered cautiously.

"Harry Potter."

"Oh that's right, I almost forgot he's coming to school this year too," said Angelica, dazed.

"Who did you think I was talking about?"

"Um…No one, really," Angelica lied.

Several minutes later they had arrived in the majestic Great Hall where the traditional sorting ceremony and great feast take place. Each year the new students put on the Sorting Hat, an old wizard hat and it tells them one by one what house (Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin) they would fit best in. There were four long tables for the students, one for each house, and one additional table for the teachers. As the students took their places Angelica felt her body grow cold as she spotted Professor Quirrell, seated next to the Potions master and Head of Slytherin Professor Snape.

At that moment Quirrell's eyes met hers and they almost seemed to go right through her.

"Hullo Angie, how was your summer?" asked her friend Oliver Wood, a handsome fifth year and Captain of their Quidditch team.

"What?" snapped Angelica, very distracted.

"Your summer? Are you alright?" he questioned, concerned.

"Sure, fine." But really all she could think of was Quirrell and how different he seemed.

After the sorting ceremony all the Gryffindors were very happy, as the famous Harry Potter, who had somehow as a baby destroyed the Dark Lord Voldemort's powers, had been selected to join their house. Unfortunately his parents had been murdered and he was left with a strange lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. Now almost everyone wanted to meet him and be his friend!

Once the feast was finished everyone went back to their respective towers where some went straight to the dormitories and slept, but most of the older students stayed in the commons room, talking, playing Wizard's Chess or exploding snap.

Oliver, Alicia, Angelica, Jonathan, and Fiona were seated around the fireplace, talking about the day's events and the summer. "Did you see Professor Quirrell's turban?" Alicia asked curiously. Everyone nodded.

"I wonder why he started to wear it?" Oliver brought up.

"Well, it goes with his robes," Angelica started without thinking. Then she paused and turned a brilliant shade of magenta. "Oh," she said bashfully, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" Percy Weasley, the prefect suddenly butted in, watching them like a hawk in his blue and white striped pajamas.

"Really Percy, we're the same age and suddenly you're acting like you're our mother! Calm down a bit," Fiona said.

He looked like he was contemplating taking points away from his own house or trying to come up with something to say as a comeback. Instead he silently marched upstairs to bed and when he was gone there was a burst of laughter.


	2. Someone Important

Part Two 

The next day marked the start of classes, even though it was their fifth year at Hogwarts it was still quite hard to find their way around the one hundred and forty-two staircases, especially since they liked to move around. At Hogwarts people from the same house and year always have their required classes together, sometimes mixed with another house of that year.

"We only have three minutes to get to Transfigurations. Come on!" Jonathan shouted frantically to his two best friends. They ran down the corridor and somehow made it to their seats on time, which was very good because the Transfiguration teacher, Professor McGonagall, was extremely strict. After that they had the ever-dull History of Magic with the school's only ghost teacher, Professor Binns who had taught while living and didn't really notice that he was dead, so he just kept on teaching.

Then it was time for lunch. Angelica took tiny sips of her ice-cold pumpkin juice as everyone around her devoured the splendid food around them.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright, Angie? You've got to keep your strength up," Fiona said.

"Yes," Angelica went on in a bit of a whisper that suggested that Fiona should know the reason for her anxiety, "We have Defense Against the Dark Arts next."

"Ah, don't worry! It'll be fine," Jonathan added as he grabbed another apple from the ever-full golden bowl. Angelica sincerely hoped he was right.

Once they got to Professor Quirrell's classroom however, Angelica was not the only one worried. The classroom stank of raw garlic, which was not at all like the room used to smell. But Angelica quickly forgot about the horrid smell, when Quirrell gave her a tiny smile.

"T-t-today, we'll b-be s-s-studying we-werewolf bites and how to t-t-treat them," Professor Quirrell finally got out with a slight twitch of the eye.

"Didn't we study this ages ago? And when did he start stuttering?" Fiona asked Angelica quietly.

She nodded, but didn't mind it really; it just felt good to be in his presence again. After they had completed the lesson, class was dismissed.

"I'm so glad classes are over for today," Fiona sighed with relief and exhaustion.

But then Quirrell's voice stopped them. "M-m-miss M-morrissey, could you please stay a m-moment?" he piped up.

Jonathan and Fiona gave her a happy, yet confused smile and left the room. Angelica took a deep breath and walked over to Quirrell's desk.

"S-sit down A-a-angie," he beckoned with a quivering arm.

She sat down and tried to force a sentence out of her mouth, "So glad to have you back, Professor."

He made his face into something resembling happiness. "Ye-yes, well," he stammered. "I wa-wanted t-to know how m-my favorite s-student was d-doing."

Her eyes flickered. Angelica was shocked. "Me? Ah, I'm alright, I suppose..." It was hard to figure out what to say when the thing she was thinking could never be exposed.

Quirrell got a sudden look of paranoia, and kept glancing over his shoulders as a cold breeze fled through the room. After he determined the coast was clear he looked straight into her eyes and said, "I met someone imp-portant o-on m-m-my travels."

Angelica's eyes widened. "Who, Professor?"

Suddenly Quirrell grabbed his head in agony and looked very ill. "LEAVE!" He shouted at her.

"Are you alright? Should I get Madame Pomfrey?" Angelica asked, scared. He shook his head vigorously and began sobbing. Angelica, quite disturbed, grabbed her belongings and ran out just as he had asked.

"What happened to you?" Oliver, who happened to be walking down the hall asked. Angelica said nothing but dropped her books and threw her arms around him.

Professor Snape mysteriously appeared at that moment. "Well, well, what have we here?" He said, with the look on his face he usually had before taking house points away. He was a very severe professor, and more often than not he enjoyed deducting points for every reason imaginable. "Morrissey, what class have you come from?" He asked his eyes glittering with rage.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," she muttered, sniffling.

"Of course," Snape said knowingly. "I must have a little chat with Professor Quirrell..." And with that he swooped off down the hall, his black robes trailing behind him.

Oliver and Angelica gave each other a perplexed look.

"And he didn't even take away points?" Fiona asked in disbelief at dinner that night.

Angelica shook her head. "I know, it's almost as if he was trying to be, kind."

"I find this quite strange. He must have an ulterior motive," Jonathan announced.

"What's the big fuss?" asked Percy, coming back to the reality of the Gryffindor table from gazing at the Ravenclaw Prefect Penelope Clearwater.

Angelica and Oliver tried to explain the day's events in what became a very jumbled manner.

Then Angelica noticed something. "Look," she said motioning her head to the teacher's table. "Professor Quirrell isn't looking at anything but his food. Do you think he is all right?"

Everyone else shrugged and went back to eating, but Angelica couldn't help but be worried.

"There was a break in at Gringotts!" Katie Bell announced, putting down the Daily Prophet.

"That's old news," Percy said, trying to hush things up in a proper way, though it seemed to trouble everyone else.

"Look over there..." Jonathan discreetly motioned towards Percy's little brother Ron, and Harry Potter, who were in a heated discussion. "You don't think they know something, do you?"

Fiona made a face. "They're just kids, they only got here yesterday! They're probably upset over their first encounter with Snape," she smiled and everyone laughed, but Angelica couldn't quite feel calm.


	3. Halloween

Part Three

The following afternoon they were in Charms class with the Slytherins. Charms was taught by the tiny Professor Flitwick, whom most found adorable; not the Slytherins, though. They were just about to finish their review of Charms covered last year, as a refresher so they could build on them this year. Professor McGonagall poked her head in the doorway.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?" she asked as Oliver gave his friends a very confused look.

"Yes, yes of course Professor," he answered cheerfully.

"We'll take notes for you," Angelica assured him.

"Ah- Okay, thank you," Oliver said as he got up and walked out the door.

"I hope he's not in trouble," Jonathan whispered.

"I don't think he could be, he's sort of a model student," mentioned Fiona.

Later that day Angelica was curled up in a comfy chair, doing homework in the common room. Jonathan had taken Fiona to the Owlry to visit his small barn owl, Doola.

"Fred! George!" Oliver said with a huge grin as he practically skipped in from the portrait hole. The common room was empty except for Fred and George Weasley, who were beaters for the Quidditch team, and Angelica. "Angelica, come here too," he said, grabbing her arm and pulling her to join them in a close circle. "I have some huge news, but you must promise not to breathe a word about it. Okay? Well. We have a new Seeker."

The Weasley twins, who had been playing a game of Wizard's chess, ignored their pieces (which were viciously attacking one another) and their jaws dropped. "Who is it?" they asked in unison.

"Harry Potter," Oliver replied in a low voice.

"So that's what Professor McGonagall wanted to see you about today," added Angelica.

"Yes," he nodded. "But, we've got to keep this quiet." And then he smiled at Angelica "I love you guys!" he gave Angelica a quick kiss on the cheek and started to leave. "See you at dinner."

"Woah, Harry Potter must be bloody brilliant!" exclaimed George.

"Yeah, I reckon he might be better than Charlie was!" Fred added, speaking of their older brother who left school the year before. Then he paused and looked at Angelica "Well, I'm glad I'm not you!" and then the twins roared with laughter.

The days after that soon went by, what with Oliver's secret after-school Quidditch practices, and homework piling up, everyone was thankful when Halloween arrived because that meant the amazing decorations and ever better, a feast! But before the feast began they had another Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. By this time rumors were circulating that Quirrell's stuttering and the horrible garlic smell that followed him came from fear of a vampire he met while in Albania on his travels. Once again Angelica was called to have a post-class meeting, but this time was a little different. Quirrell waited until the room was empty.

"Professor Quirrell, what did you need to see me about?" Angelica asked.

He tried to smile. "Please, c-call me Q-Quirinus. I-i have h-h-heard there a-are some rumors go-going around ab-bout me. B-but you know n-n-not to believe them, r-r-right Angie?"

Angelica wasn't sure how to respond. She didn't want to set him off like she had at the start of the term, but she didn't want to lie and say she knew what was truthful about him anymore.

That evening it was time for the annual Halloween feast to begin. The Great Hall was filled with a thousand live bats and floating jack-o'-lanterns. The feast had just appeared on the golden platters when Professor Quirrell made a mad dash into the hall. He looked terrified and half-dead.

"T-t-troll - in the d-dungeons! Thought you ought to know."

He then sank into a dead faint. Everyone began screaming hysterically, not knowing what else to do.

"Quirinus!" Angelica shrieked, looking positively ill. She attempted to run to his side but Fiona grabbed her wrist and tugged her the other way.

"What are you doing? We have to get out of here!"

"But I don't want Quirinus to be dead! I have to help him! He trusts me" Angelica looked on the verge of tears.

Professor Dumbledore demanded the prefects lead their housemates to the dormitories immediately. But Angelica didn't want to leave Quirrell. Dumbledore had also issued orders to the staff to get their wands and meet in the dungeons. Somehow Snape knew what Angelica was thinking and muttered nastily as he walked by the Gryffindor table "I'm sure the headmaster will -er- take_ care_ of Quirrell perfectly well, Morrissey."

But somehow that thought didn't help. Percy was very excited to lead the Gryffindors to safety, saying such things as "No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders," and "Excuse me! I'm a Prefect!" When they finally reached the common room everyone was still very frantic and amidst the chaos and confusion Angelica sprinted up to the fifth year Gryffindor girls' dormitory. It was dark and empty, only lit by the moonlight shining through the window. Angelica collapsed on her fluffy four post bed and pulled the red velvet curtains shut, so no one could see her crying.

Fiona rushed in minutes later. She sighed. "Angelica? Are you alright?"

"Mmmm." Angelica mumbled, slowly peeking her head out from behind the curtains. "I want to go back there and see if he's okay" she said softly.

"I know you do. But there's really no chance of you being able to do that now. Come with me downstairs, we're finishing the feast there and besides, you couldn't sneak out past Mr. Prefect if you wanted to."

Angelica let out a weak laugh and followed Fiona back to the common room and took their places beside their friends.


	4. Splinters of Kindness

Part Four: 

November marked the start of the Quidditch season, which everyone was excited about, perhaps none more so than Oliver because this year he felt confident they had a shot of winning the coveted silver Quidditch Cup. He frequently made comments such as, "Ohh, the face Flint will make when we win!" with a manic glint in his eyes. Marcus Flint was the team Captain of Slytherin, who they were to play on Saturday.

"We should do something special for Oliver," Fiona said as she and Angelica walked to their Divinations class on Friday.

Angelica nodded; she'd been in a much better mood since finding out that there had been nothing serious wrong with Professor Quirrell. "And for Alicia too, I mean she's out of the reserves and on the actual team now!" Angelica exclaimed.

Just then they had reached Professor Trelawney's classroom, which as always smelled heavily of incense. Professor Trelawney resembled a large praying mantis with a mass of hair and glasses. Before they started class, she appeared out of the smoke, next to Angelica.

"Oh dear," she whispered. "I see that the stars will not be kind to you this year. Someone close to your heart is going to..."

"To what, Professor?" Angelica asked, breaking into a cold sweat.

"I mustn't say, for I fear you would try and meddle with the Fates."

Of course hearing that sort of thing wouldn't exactly be easy to forget, but somehow when Saturday's game rolled around everyone seemed to be in a good mood. It was chilly that morning, with a brisk breeze blowing through the packed stands. Jonathan, Angelica, and Fiona were huddled up, under their cloaks, watching their friends play a most exciting game of Quidditch.

"That Harry Potter is simply amazing!" Jonathan commented, and handed the binoculars to Fiona.

Suddenly the crowd gasped.

"What's he _doing?_" she asked as Harry was flipping around on his broom.

"Mmm...No, I think it's more what is _it_ doing?" Jonathan said, speaking of Harry's state-of-the-art broom, the Nimbus 2000.

"That-that's impossible!" Angelica sputtered. Fiona offered her the binoculars, she shook her head.

"You know, if we had omnioculars we wouldn't have this problem," Jonathan laughed.

"I know, I should've gotten us some when I went to the Quidditch World Cup on holiday," Fiona apologized.

"It's alright Fiona, one day we'll go together and get them," Jonathan snuggled close to Fiona as her cheeks flushed pink, and not just from the cold.

"Gimme those!" Angelica shouted suddenly, changing her mind. Fiona handed her the binoculars. Angelica gasped and threw them back down.

"What?" Fiona and Jonathan said in unison.

"Q-Q- Professor Quirrell fell; someone knocked him down or something..."

"That man is having no luck..." Fiona added, sharing a smirk with Jonathan. But before the conversation could continue Harry literally coughed up the Golden Snitch and won the game for Gryffindor. Naturally everyone but the Slytherins roared with joy. The final score was Gryffindor – One hundred and seventy, Slytherin - Sixty. There were parties in the Gryffindor tower all night long, so everyone quickly forgot about the unpleasant events of the day.

One morning in mid-December classes had ended for the term and the majority of students were gathered in the Great Hall with their trunks, getting ready to head home for winter break. There was a giddy cheeriness in the air as everyone admired the huge Christmas trees and other decorations about.

"You know, I almost wish I was staying here," sighed Jonathan with a smile. He was the only wizard in his family and unlike other muggle born students; his family (particularly his little sister Chelsea) bombarded him with questions and requests to perform magic at their annual Christmas party. Fiona, on the other hand, was from an old wizarding family, while Angelica's mum was a witch, and her dad a Muggle.

Angelica was just securing her warm hat on her head when Professor Quirrell walked quickly by the students, seeming not even to notice they were there. "Ah, um, I just remembered I forgot something..." She muttered a lie and ran down the corridor after him. "Professor!" she shouted to his back, but he continued moving up the stairs. Angelica continued to follow him and found it very odd that he didn't utter a sound. Where they now were didn't look at all familiar; it was quite dismal and lacking the usual Hogwarts glow.

Then something hit her. She felt her stomach drop. They were in the forbidden corridor on the third floor, and there was a nasty sound coming from the other side of the door Quirrell was ready to open. "Quirinus! No!" she screamed and started to pull his hand away, but he snapped his head at her with a fierce look. Angelica's lip started to quiver.

"Oh no-no A-a-angie, it's you!" he said, shocked at the way he was acting. "W-w-why are y-you here?"

"_Me_? I was just trying to wish you a Happy Christmas before I went away on holiday," Angelica said, half angry.

"D-d-don't b-be mad, I-I-I haven't b-been fe-feeling m-m-m-myself lately," he confessed.

"I'm sorry Professor," she replied bitterly and turned away to leave. But before she could she felt an ice-cold hand on her shoulder, and turned back around only to see Quirrell lean his head slowly towards hers. Her eyes widened and she felt herself gasping for air. Before she could think of anything else, he had given her a small, but warm and sweet, kiss.

"Now you'll k-k-keep this quiet, w-won't you," Quirrell started, seriously.

She nodded, in a state of shock.

"Y-y-you w-wont tell a s-s-oul where y-you f-f-f-found me?"

"No, I promise."

With that he led her to the hallway, and in a dazed manner she walked back down stairs to the Great Hall which by this time was nearly empty. Hagrid the games keeper poked his head in the doorway "C'mon you three! Train's 'bout to leave!"

Fiona turned to Angelica "Did you find what you forgot?"

Angelica only nodded.


	5. Premonition

Part Five: 

Winter break went by like molasses, though frequent letters exchanged by owl between Angelica and Fiona helped pass the time and put a bit of a stopper in Angelica's anxiety. Not to mention Jonathan's distressed telephone calls where he would fret to Angelica saying such things as "Mum asked me to do a _'magic trick'_ for her friends at the Christmas party! Again!" and Angelica would try to calm him down by reassuring him that his parents were just proud of his magic abilities, that they aren't intentionally trying to inflict panic and embarrass him. When January finally did come about they were quite happy to get back to Hogwarts. Oliver all but disappeared for the first month back at Hogwarts, but since he had become extra fanatical about making sure Gryffindor would overtake Slytherin for the first time in seven years!

Soon it was time for the all-important Quidditch game against Hufflepuff - Oliver and the rest of the team had notified their house about (and griped to them about) the fact that Snape would be the referee.

"Why _is_ Snape suddenly taking an interest in refereeing?" Fiona wondered to her friends at the Quidditch match.

"Well, isn't it obvious? He wants to make sure we don't win the Cup." Jonathan said with slight anger.

"I dunno, I think there's another reason...I mean he isn't _that_ bad a person."

Fiona and Jonathan glared at Angelica like she was mad. "Sure you weren't meant for Hufflepuff, Angie?" Fiona joked, and Jonathan giggled.

"What? He's not ... Really."

"Look! Dumbledore's here! He never comes to matches, what do you reckon is going on?" asked Jonathan.

Snape awarded the Hufflepuffs a few penalties but besides that he didn't do anything vicious. The exciting game came to a close when Harry Potter made an amazing dive and caught the Snitch.

"We're going to the Finals!" Fiona stood up and cheered with the rest of the Gryffindors. Harry's best friends, Ron Weasley (who looked like he'd been in a fight) and Hermione Granger, led them out onto the Quidditch field and congratulated their housemates. The team looked worn-out, flushed, but happy!

"Oliver!" Angelica screamed and threw her arms around his neck.

"We did it! We're gonna crush those Slytherin wankers!" he yelled back over the extremely loud crowd. Then the two of them proceeded to laugh

The following Monday they had a very intense Potions lesson which Professor Snape claimed was to prepare them for their upcoming O.W.Ls (or Ordinary Wizarding Levels) examinations. But Fiona was sure it was because of the hope of Snape's Slytherins winning the House Cup now looked very weak.

Near the end of class Snape overheard an unfortunate Gryffindor telling his friends something very rude about what he'd like to do to Snape's formaldehyde and animal parts jars with a flipendo knock-back jinx.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor, detention for all who laughed, and worse if I ever hear any of those words again," Professor Snape said curtly. "Oh, and Miss Morrissey, I must speak to you after class - alone?" he added, eyeing Jonathan, Fiona, and Oliver.

Angelica nodded, her book bag in one hand, cauldron in the other, and marched up to Snape's desk. "I know that Professor Quirrell has always had a special, fondness, for you. And seeing how the headmaster has given him back the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor," here he cringed. "I thought he may have mentioned the suspicious activities of late to you."

"Ah, no, Professor, sir, I-"

"Run along then, I don't know why I even bothered to ask a child like you," he remarked coldly. Angelica bit her tongue and left his dungeon; she knew it wasn't worth losing more house points over.

At the next Divinations class they were studying advanced palmistry. Angelica and Fiona were paired up together, which they were thankful for, as even though they both enjoyed the arts of Divinations, Trelawney's lessons were something of a waste of time, but when paired up together they could make lessons a bit more fun. Angelica was flipping pages of her book to find out what having a small mound of Jupiter meant, when Professor Trelawney came to inspect their work. But before Fiona could tell her about Angelica's increased mount of Mars, Trelawney gazed matter-of-factly at Angelica and said "There's something you want to tell me about."

"Um, sorry, I don't know what you mean, Professor."

"No, my dear, you do, I am an expert at these things."

Several students snickered.

"Well, I um, I had a dream last night," Angelica said trying to shut Trelawney up.

The professor nodded. "Ah, a premonition, Go on."

"I, well, I was in this large room, but I think I was invisible, because no one noticed I was there..." She took a deep breath. "There, there, w-was this - man, and he seemed to be unraveling, you know, coming undone, but in ribbon. A-and I couldn't help him or move at all."

A look of horror mixed with confusion came across Fiona and Trelawney's faces. Angelica didn't bother to look at the rest of the class, but the room had gone silent.

"My dear, you must have the blood of a gifted Seer in you, for you have just predicted your own death. Well, our time is up," Trelawney finished and returned to her desk as the students solemnly packed up their things.

"You never told me about that," whispered Fiona, once they had gotten out of the classroom.

"Well, I just dreamt it last night," Angelica said, trying to keep from tears.

"Maybe you ought to go to Quirrell about this, Angie?"

Almost as if on cue, Snape appeared out of a trick bookcase. "And what would you be going to _Quirrell_ about?" he hissed, coolly.

"We-well it has to do with Defense Against the Dark Arts, sir," Fiona jumped in.

"And you would go to him for advice?" scoffed Snape.

The girls looked at each other, as Snape glared at them.

"Fiona, Angie!" Jonathan shouted, turning around the corner, with Oliver at his side. They stopped short. "T-time for Herbology."

"Well, move on then. No use in idling now, is there?"

The four students scurried off to the greenhouse and were only slightly late for their class.


	6. I Need You

Part Six: 

Angelica found it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything but Professor Trelawney's words. Though she had never told anyone, she did have the blood of a Seer in her, or at least according to family stories her great-grandmother used to make accurate but vague predictions. In fact, her premonitions were one of the first ways she noticed that she, like her mother she was a witch. But could it be true? This time could she really have foretold her own doom?

Classes had finished for the day and Angelica was heading towards the Great Hall for dinner, walking down the cold, empty corridor, letting her hand run across the stones in the wall. Should she take Fiona's word and go talk to Quirrell about her dream?

As if to answer her, she heard hurried footsteps coming towards her and then a trembling hand grasped her right shoulder. "A-A-Angelica! M-might I have a-a-a word with y-you?" Quirrell asked.

She turned to face him, and she nodded in all seriousness.

Without saying a word, he led her to a place she hadn't been in nearly two years - his office. The room was different than before, the same desk and chairs were there, but now there were many herbs and flowers scattered around the room, as well as a sloppy stack of books. Quirrell got out his wand and moved quickly, in a clockwise motion, lighting several different types of incense, while muttering something inaudible. Angelica was too confused to ask what this was all about, so she stood nervously until he was finished with his ritual.

"S-s-sit down," he said motioning towards one of the chairs. Being back in that room, back in that chair, felt like old times, comforting, in a way. "I-I-I wa-wanted to s-s-ee you b-because of what h-happened bef-fore C-c-christmas holiday."

Angelica felt her cheeks flush. "Yes, Quirinus?" she asked, trying to sound like a calm adult.

"W-what I was d-doing there w-was s-s-something of a protection enchantment. T-though I c-c-ant tell you w-what." He sighed. "I-I think you can help me."

"Me? B-but I'm only a fifth year, what do I know about advanced magic?"

Quirrell leaned forward, towards her and brought a quivering finger to her lips. "No, it's not about what you can do, but what you are," he said, stutter gone. "Now, will you help me?"

There was a pause, and she just stared at him and blinked, not even sure of what was happening. "Yes, yes of course I'll help you - but I don't know how I sho-"

He cut her off, took her hands and stood her up. "I-I-I knew I c-could count on y-you A-A-Angie," Quirrell told her, with a strange sense of hope in his voice. He embraced her and she felt her body become slightly limp. "Be at the library tonight at eight. I'll explain the rest then," he whispered in her ear and then his lips slowly lingered on her cheek. With his hands on her shoulders, he gave her a pained smile and asked her to leave.

"Where have you been?" Oliver asked Angelica as she joined her friends (who were nearly finished) at dinner that evening.

"Oh, right, I um, I needed to ask Professor Quirrell about something..." she answered vaguely and then got started on her warm dinner roll.

"Oh?" Oliver screwed up his mouth. "What about?"

Angelica flushed and she became extremely focused on her roll.

"She, ah, needed to inquire on something for Professor Trelawney," Fiona lied.

Jonathan, on Fiona's left side, raised his eyebrows but didn't contradict her. "I think we've got a great shot at winning the cup this year," he commented. And those were the magic words to get Oliver going on a different subject.

As they walked out of the Great Hall, Fiona subtly pulled Angelica aside. "So, did you talk to him about your dream?"

"What? Oh no! I completely forgot" Angelica said, ashamed.

"Well, then what were you two talking about?" Fiona said confused, as she leaned up against a column.

"I'm not exactly sure. I'll see you later though, I've got to look something up at the library," she whispered and ran off.

Quarter 'till nine and there was still no sign of Quirrell in the library. There was hardly anyone else there either, possibly because it was almost closing time, but still it seemed oddly empty. Angelica had decided to pretend to study while she waited. So there she sat, aimlessly, anxiously staring at a very thick and old book called _The Magical Household._ Snape suspiciously passed by, glaring at her.

She seriously debated leaving for a while after that thinking she may have misunderstood what Quirrell had asked her to do. At nine-thirty she got up and walked through the heavy double doors, only to smack right into Quirrell.

"Oh! I um," Angelica said, startled.

"No, it's my fault, Angelica. Come with me," Quirrell said, in an oddly calm voice.

This time the two of them didn't go to his office, they went to an empty classroom and from the stack of books piled high, it could be deduced that it was most likely Professor Flitwick's room. Quirrell shut the door to the moonlit room and slowly walked towards Angelica.

"N-n-now j-just s-s-stay still," he told her as he took out his wand.

Angelica's mouth went dry and her body felt like lead. "W-what are you doing?" she exclaimed, though she didn't try to run away.

"F-f-f-forgive me. _Accio Rudictus!_"

Angelica felt a stabbing pain in her side and then the room went black.


	7. To Be of Help

Part Seven: 

Angelica opened her eyes in a series of short blinks. She was lying on an unfamiliar soft bed. There was someone perched at the side of it, though she couldn't make out who it was as the room and everything in it, were still very blurry.

"A-are you awake, A-a-angelica?"

It was Quirrell's voice, which meant she was in Quirrell's private quarters, lying in Quirrell's bed. But why? She nodded in response and attempted to prop herself up on her elbows but was too weak to do so.

"Y-you f-f-fell ill, b-b-but y-you have h-helped me in a w-w-way you can not really understand r-right now," he explained in a tone of frustration intertwined with relief. "I-I-I've done something unf-forgivable, b-b-but you m-m-might have s-saved me." He broke out into a sweat and clutched his turban in pain. "A-a-at least for a-a little while," he added with a forced laugh and walked over to his wooden dresser where two cups of some strange-smelling liquid awaited him. He drank one.

Unsure of what a response to something like that might be, and what Quirrell was talking about, she did kind of enjoy the fact that she was lying in Quirrell's bed. Was that why he wanted to see her alone so late that night, because he had romantic feelings for her? With all these thoughts dashing through her head, she hardly had noticed him sitting back down again, next to her.

"D-drink this, it will h-h-help," he said, handing her the other cup, and she drank it up without question. It was wine, but she tasted an infusion of Tourengane. Although she wasn't that great at Herbology, she did recall Tourengane was used in love potions. But why would she need that? She didn't think it was possible to love him more.

"Where were you Angie? Everyone was asking about you at breakfast! And I couldn't very well hide it from our room mates that you weren't here all night," Fiona ranted the next morning when she found Angelica sitting by the window in their dorm room.

"I fell ill," Angelica answered truthfully.

"What happened? Are you okay now?" Fiona questioned with concern.

"I'm fine, just tired. I fainted."

"Did Madam Pomfrey give you something?"

"N-no. Professor Quirrell did," Angelica kept her eyes on the carpet.

Fiona looked confused. "Quirrell? Was he at the infirmary too?" She asked presumptively.

Angelica paused and chose not to answer that. "He made me a potion out of some herbs to help me get my energy back. I think it was a remedy Madam Pomfrey didn't know."

"But I don't understand why Quirrell was there? That seems odd. Though, he hasn't looked well himself, maybe he needed treatment too?"

This caused a thought to spread inside Angelica, she had been so consumed by her having spend the night in Quirrell's quarters, and wondering what the purpose of the potion he gave her was, that she'd ceased to think about what he needed her for. He had said she helped him, but how? Could it be that he really was sick? That might explain the paleness, garlic, and his seeming out of sorts lately. Angelica recalled that the spell he cast before she blacked out had the word "rudictus" in it and that had something to do with plants because she once heard Professor Sprout use that word in a charm to stop the roots of a monkshood plant from choking the other plants nearby.

"Anyway, we've got to get going to class Angie," Fiona told Angelica, whilst grabbing her potions class materials.

"I-I know. You go on ahead though, I'll catch up with you soon," Angelica replied, pulling her Herbology text out of her stack of school books.

Fiona shrugged and left their dorm as Angelica started flipping pages to get to Tourengane to find the listing of what potions it can be used for. On her way to the Ts the page on the plant named angelica caught her attention and caused her anxiety to rise. "Angelica, used in potions or sachets for protection," she read to herself, feeling sick, "he needs me to protect him?

Shortly after her realization, she had Potions class, which she was not looking forward to, especially not today. Of course she joined up with Fiona, Jonathan and Oliver in the laboratory; this made things more intense as Angelica had a lot of explaining to do. All this stopped however, when Snape limped into the room.

"I thought, perhaps, it might be of use to take a slight detour and make one of the most potent exorcism potions. It wouldn't surprise me if one day you might be stupid enough to get yourself possessed. You will need half a vile of Acacia Senegal oil, three drops of Dragon's blood, wait until the mixture comes to a full boil and then add four kilograms chopped root of..." He took a dramatic pause and set his black eyes on one student in particular, "Angelica."


	8. Seeing the Future

Part Eight:

At the beginning of May, fifth year students were required to meet with the head of their house for career advice, and for Angelica that meant meeting with Professor McGonagall whom Angelica felt did not like her. This dislike Angelica traced back to the time when her negligence caused Oliver to get hit in the head with a bludger during their first Quidditch match in her third year. To make matters worse, Angelica had no clue what she wanted to do for a job. When she expressed her lack of career aspirations to Professor McGonagall, McGonagall gave her a thin lipped hard stare over the tops of her rectangular glasses, and then she looked back down and unrolled the parchment scroll that held Angelica's transcript on it.

"Well Miss Morrissey," Professor McGonagall started, "I see you've done well in Charms. And you did an exceptional job in Defense Against the Dark Arts during your third year, and this year as well, though, not the other three years you have been here…" She raised her eyebrow as if she suspected something. "Ah, but I see your best subject appears to be Divinations!" said McGonagall in a tone of mixed surprise, disappointment, and amusement.

Angelica sat in the chair across from McGonagall's desk, silent and uncomfortable, fidgeting her hands as Professor McGonagall thought through Angelica's career options.

"Perhaps a job in the Ministry? The Department of Mysteries could use someone with a background in charms, defense against the dark arts, and divinations." She looked at Angelica to see if she showed signs of interest at this idea.

"Okay," Angelica absently responded.

Professor McGonagall shook her head and handed Angelica a pamphlet on careers in the Ministry of Magic, and one particularly devoted to jobs in the Department of Mysteries (which had no pictures and very little information in terms of job descriptions). "Look these over, and if you decide to try to start a career in the Department of Mysteries then you need to keep up your marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, and Divinations. And try to improve your Transfigurations and Potions grades. Those would be the classes I would recommend for N.E.W.Ts level."

Angelica nodded, "Thank you," she added, and walked out the door of Professor McGonagall's office. She skimmed through the glossy booklets as she walked to the Great Hall for lunch. It was good to have an idea of jobs she could qualify for, though none of the options seemed very interesting to her. Angelica was the last of her friends to have their career advice session and at lunch she found out what jobs had been recommended to them.

Percy announced, "Professor McGonagall said my suburb grades and status as a Prefect will certainly make me a top candidate for Minister of Magic."

"I told Professor McGonagall I wanted to be in a rock band, you know, like the Weird Sisters, and she didn't try to change my mind, just said I shouldn't give up my studies," Jonathan quickly explained, changing the subject before immense laughter broke out at Percy's expense.

"She told me that I should work in medicine. At St. Mungo's, or something," Fiona said with a shrug.

"Medicine? I didn't know you were interested," Angelica commented.

"I'm not!"

"McGonagall encouraged me to go into Quidditch professionally. Which I was planning on anyway," Oliver said with a smile and a chuckle.

As Jonathan and Fiona congratulated Oliver on the encouragement he got, and began discussing what professional Quidditch team he should try to get a spot on, Angelica's eyes drifted towards the professor and staff table with the hope that Quirrell would be looking more like himself, or at the very least a little bit healthier. It seemed as though with every passing day his skin grew more transparent, the circles under his eyes more black, his stutter worse, and at times he didn't even appear to recognize her. Unfortunately the condition Angelica saw Quirrell in at lunch was a continuation of his degeneration. He wasn't even eating, just scraping and picking at his food with his knife and fork, occasionally taking a polite sip of pumpkin juice. It disturbed Angelica so much to see him in such a state and not to know what was causing him to be so ill. 'Apparently,' she thought, 'whatever protection I was able to provide through that potion wasn't enough.' But what did he need protection from?

Things in the following weeks just got worse. About a week before exams were to start, and after one particularly horrible Divinations class Fiona walked Angelica to see Madam Pomfrey, at the hospital wing. She diagnosed her with severe exhaustion and said she exhibited the usual array of pre-O.W.Ls. exam stress symptoms. Madam Pomfrey handed Angelica a slab of chocolate and shooed them out of her office.

"Angie, this is getting very serious, you have to talk to someone about these dreams! I don't want anything to happen to you."

Angelica agreed and munched her chocolate all the way to Quirrell's classroom. She knocked on the door.

"C-c-come in," he said in a lethargic, frightened voice When she walked in he looked like someone was killing him, slowly, just sucking the life out of him.

"Quirinus, if this is a bad time..."

"N-n-n-not at all. I-I enjoy your c-c-company."

"I've been having what Professor Trelawney says are prophetic dreams... Of my own death," she blurted out.

"W-what happens in t-t-them?" He asked, cautiously.

She explained about the dream with the empty room and the unraveling man whom she could not help.

Quirrell's eyes became as wide as a house elf's. "Oh?" he responded in a squeak. He held his mouth half open for quite some time before anymore words came out. "I-I-I've had t-the s-s-same dream. E-except I-" He stopped and with a look of sadness and longing he pulled her close to him and kissed her for what seemed like an eternity.

When they pulled apart, his face had gone slightly green.

"Q-quick, leave, through the back d-d-door!"

Angelica ran off.


	9. An Overwhelming Sense

Part Nine: 

Quirrell had not spoken to Angelica since she told him about her dream, which continued to become more vivid each night. The first week of O.W.Ls examinations passed slowly and was quite horrific. Monday was Charms, which wasn't so bad in the practical section, but Angelica messed up the answers on the written exam. Tuesday's Transfiguration practical exam was miserable as she kept saying the wrong incantation for the object at hand. On Wednesday she had the Herbology exam on which she thought she barely got a passing mark, though she wouldn't know for sure until July. After Thursday's Defense Against the Dark Arts exam (that did go well), which, like all the other O.W.Ls exams was proctored by someone other than the professor, Quirrell walked right passed Angelica in the hallway while she was on her way back to the Gryffindor dormitories. Once again Quirrell looked very weak and distraught; he seemed to not be cognoscente of anyone around him, which had become quite the normal behavior for him during the last two weeks especially. But as Angelica stared at his face during the seconds in which they crossed paths, she noticed a small glob of a shiny silver liquid at the right corner of his mouth. Perhaps it was a remnant of a potion he took to help remedy what was making him sick? But the sight of it and the glazed look in his eyes made her feel exceedingly worried and uncomfortable.

Thursday night Angelica lay restless in her bed. The rest of her roommates were fast asleep, and rightfully so as it was getting very late. Suddenly, something struck her and she felt compelled to leave Gryffindor tower. She hadn't a clue where she needed to go, she only knew what this feeling her gut was telling her - Quirrell was in danger, and she was the only one who could save him. But knew that if she were to attempt leaving her dormitory Fiona (a very light sleeper) would surely hear her rustling through her trunk to get her robe, and put an end to her vague plan of action. Fiona already thought that Angelica was acting strangely that week, and being a concerned friend simply would not stand for Angelica wondering outside of Gryffindor tower after hours.

Given this heightened state of anxiety Angelica was certain she would never fall asleep, but several long minutes later her eyes shut, with warm tears trickling down her cheeks, she was brought back into the same nightmare that had haunted her all year.

She stood near a pillar at the back of a large, nearly empty room with an odd mirror in the center of it. That first year Harry Potter was in front of her and he seemed to be bound by something. And there was Quirrell, unraveling - his turban. She wanted to run to him, but she couldn't move she felt numb. It had been him. He had been the man unraveling in her dreams, in her nightmares.

This couldn't really be happening, could it? There was a hideous face on the back of Quirrell's newly bald head. It started talking to Harry about very strange things; Quirrell drinking blood from a unicorn for him, needing to creating his own body, some kind of stone, murdering Harry's parents – it couldn't be You-Know-Who, could it? He had fallen almost eleven years ago. Harry had brought about his demise when he was just a baby. It simply could not be him.

Quirrell flew towards Harry and started to strangle him, but then he doubled over in pain, and Angelica noticed blisters forming all over his hands. But he continued, trying to kill Harry, or at least remove the shinning red stone from his hand. But everywhere Harry touched him he burned, his skin blistered red and raw, until both Quirrell and Harry both fell to the hard grey floor, neither moving at all.

Angelica ran to Quirrell and flung herself on top of his body, hoping that maybe she could somehow magically heal him. She lay with her head on his heart, trying with all her might to hear even a faint beat, but there was nothing. She was beyond tears.

Her eyes shot open – that could not have been just a dream, it had been tangible and every detail was as clear as if she had been in that strange room with Quirrell, Harry Potter, and whoever that was on the back of Quirrell's head. She stared at the ceiling, hoping that watching the shadows pass would keep her thoughts calm instead of lingering on what had just passed. Though she stared at the ceiling like a zombie, her hands kept remembering the hot peeling blisters on Quirrell's hands, which led to the memory of the way the fabric of his robes felt smooth against her cheek, and the way he…How could he be dead, just like that? She felt ice shooting through her veins and curled up on a ball to try to combat nausea.

She wasn't sure how much time passed between her waking, the shards of sunlight jabbing across the ceiling like daggers, and the sounds of movement and voices of her roommates. It felt simultaneously like minutes and years, and she dreaded having to go to the Great Hall where she knew she would not find Quirrell sitting in his chair at the professor and staff table next to Professor Snape. At the same time she knew that if she didn't go down to breakfast she would have to explain to at least Fiona why she never wanted to leave her bed again.

After waiting for her roommates to leave, unwillingly Angelica opened the red velvet curtains that surrounded her bed, put her feet on the floor, put on the first skirt and blouse she pulled from her wardrobe, and without even brushing her hair, made her way down to the common room, out the portrait hole and started walking towards the Great Hall, from which she heard sounds of triumphant cheering and laughter. The sounds of her giddy schoolmates initiated tears streaming from her eyes until she could taste their salty flavor in her mouth. She decided to keep on walking, where to, she didn't know and didn't particularly care as long as there weren't other people there.

It was then that she heard footsteps running up behind her. A quick hope that it might be Quirrell crashed when she found it was only Fiona. Angelica did not want to talk to anyone about what had happened the previous night because talking about it would only make things more real. She hoped her friends would go away.

"I saw you pass by the Great Hall," Fiona started, out of breath from running after her.

Angelica solemnly nodded, but continued to walk silently with her back turned to Fiona.

Fiona followed. "What's wrong with you? I mean, are you really ill, Angie?"

"Don't call me that," Angelica said coldly after realizing that it only made her think of how Quirrell had called her that when he talked to her alone.

"What?" Fiona wondered.

Angelica paused. "I'm not sick. Just suffering from exhaustion."

"Oh. Okay," Fiona muttered. "Well, Dumbledore made an announcement at breakfast that might make you feel better."

Angelica perked up slightly at this thought and turned around to listen to her friend.

"Well, apparently He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was still alive, and he snuck into Hogwarts last night!"

That was all Angelica needed to hear to know that it hadn't been a dream, or a nightmare "It was real…I was right…" Angelica absentmindedly mumbled as she leaned up against the nearest wall for support, covering her mouth and trying her best to hide her tear stained face behind her hair.

"What? Well, anyway then Harry Potter defeated him again, just like when he was a baby! But man, he's just a little first year. I think that's why everyone's so happy around here. It really gives us reason to celebrate, you know?"

"Celebrate?" Angelica said quietly in disbelief. Hadn't Dumbledore told them that Quirrell had been killed? That he had been possessed by You-Know-Who and tortured all year? The idea of ecstatic happiness and parties at a time like this made her feel even sicker.

"Angi—I mean Angelica, you look kind of, grey, maybe you should go lay down? I could go get you some tea, or toast if you want, breakfast is still going on."

Angelica shook her head, biting her tongue so she didn't start sobbing. "I just need some more rest." She turned around and started walking briskly to the staircase and began the trek up seven flights to Gryffindor Tower.


	10. A Half Life

Part Ten: 

Upon reaching the second floor she paused, and without thinking made her way to the maple wood door to Quirrell's office and stood absently blinking, befuddled that his door was ajar. Her mind filled with questions: should she enter? If she did would she be overwhelmed by the emptiness and finally give in to the emotional breakdown she felt was nearly happening? Then again, what if being in his office would be a comfort to her? But before her contemplation went any further the door creaked open and her head jolted up -

"I thought I might find you here, Angelica," said a calmly upset voice from the doorway.

"Headmaster," She said as a noticeable lump formed in her throat, feeling an immense let down that it was Headmaster Dumbledore who had opened the door from inside Quirrell's office, while at the same time beating herself up for holding such a foolish hope that there was a possibility that Quirrell himself could have walked out that door instead.

"You're in shock, quite understandable. I'm afraid there's nothing we can do for young Quirinus now." Dumbledore looked directly into Angelica's eyes for a moment.

"Then…Then he – what happened in my -" She cut herself off.

"Yes, Angelica, Quirinus was possessed by Voldemort, and he died early this morning after trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone in a battle with Harry Potter." Dumbledore paused. "When a person is possessed by someone – evil, or good – against their will, the possessor's forceful inhabitance will cause the degeneration of the host's body, to the extent that when the possessor leaves the body, the host will die."

Angelica stared intensely at Dumbledore, though she did not know what to do or say. Where was Quirrell now? Where was his body? Why hadn't she realized that he was possessed earlier in the year when she could have maybe done something to help him? She felt completely helpless, which to her was the worst feeling in the world.

"I informed the Ministry of what went on this morning. Their representatives have already been here to collect Quirinus' body." Dumbledore stepped out of the doorway and closed the door behind him. "I have also spoken with his family. I believe you were also close with him, and therefore, you must follow me to the Hospital Wing, I have made arrangements with Madam Pomfrey for you to stay there tonight. I thought it would be best to keep you away from the Gryffindor common room for the time being, I understand there are to be some fascinating celebrations tonight."

Angelica followed Dumbledore to the Infirmary as he'd asked, walking in a state of limbo.

When they arrived at the infirmary Madam Pomfrey was standing eagerly at the door. "Miss Morrissey, go have a seat on one of the beds in the room to your right."

Angelica turned her head to ask Dumbledore a question, but he was no longer there. She made her way through the double doors on her right which led to a long dark room with hospital beds lining either side. Angelica collapsed on the bed nearest where she stood.

In a bed to her left lay a bandaged and sleeping Ron Weasley, and there was another occupied bed, though privacy screens had been pulled around it, Angelica guessed that behind those curtains was where Harry Potter was recuperating. Thinking of him and how his touch had somehow burned and blistered Quirrell's skin filled her with anger. It was because of Harry after all that You-Know-Who needed a new body, in a way, it was Harry who had caused Quirrell to be possessed, and in turn caused Quirrell's death.

Just then one of the double doors open quietly and Madam Pomfrey walked over to Angelica and handed her a small vile. "This will let you sleep without dreaming. Follow the directions on the label," she explained.

Though Angelica didn't really need an explanation as she realized it was a larger amount of the same potion Quirrell had convinced Professor Snape to give her to help ward off the nightmares she had in year three. Recalling this made the feeling of oncoming sobs increase and so she promptly took a dose of the quick acting potion and fell into peaceful, dreamless sleep.

During the next few days Angelica kept mostly to her bed, though she didn't sleep much. The potion Madam Pomfrey had given her kept her from having nightmares, but it didn't help with the transition to being awake and that she would never see Quirrell again. That is what she found the hardest.


	11. Beyond Existance

Part Eleven: 

The following week Harry Potter was released from the infirmary, which naturally resulted in more parties and good cheer, much to Angelica's disgust. Additionally that week Angelica and the rest of the fifth years had to continue their O.W.L. examinations. Angelica managed to pull together enough of her mind to complete her remaining five exams: Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy, Divinations, and History of Magic, though this is not to say she passed any of them. During the History of Magic exam she broke into tears when she had to answer a question about the location of the mountain troll rebellion of 1647, but she knew she wouldn't do well on that exam anyway. Angelica had shut down socially, rarely spending time in the common room, and acting very cold to her friends.

Fiona and Jonathan, having been her best friends for the past five years were able to figure out the cause of her depression after several days passed, as they knew how attached to Quirrell she was. They did not, of course know that her relationship with Quirrell had become something of a romantic one that year, nor did they know that she had witnessed his death, but they were aware enough to know that Angelica needed time alone to mourn.

The night before the end of the year feast Angelica went to bed early as usual, swallowed the last of the dreamless sleep potion, and soon fell asleep. It wasn't long before she was startled to find herself in the final chamber of the rooms beneath the trap door in the forbidden corridor, the room in which Quirrell died.

The room seemed empty, but not knowing what else to do she began walking around to explore the room better. The stone floor was cold under her bare feet, and it grew difficult to see as she progressed further into the room.

A hand wrapped itself around her left wrist. It felt warm, but scarred, with skin peeling, like someone who had a bad case of the chicken pox.

Angelica felt anxious, but not frightened, "Who's there?"

"Angie, I don't know how much time I have," Quirrell said urgently in his old voice.

"W-what?" asked Angelica as she tried desperately to see Quirrell's face in the darkness.

"I-I know you heard what _he _said about me, about how I did_ horrible_ things for him. Drank unicorn's blood…" Quirrell paused in disgust, "You, you have to know those things were against my will, the things I did – up until the end."

"I didn't think you would act like that, you seemed so sick all year, and it worried me. Then during the last few weeks you, you seemed so…far gone, like you were someone entirely different," Angelica confessed.

He sighed, "I'm ashamed to tell you this Angie, but in those last weeks it was me, he- he _promised_ that if I got him the Philosopher's Stone he would gain a new body and therefore I would be just myself. I truly believed he would leave me. I became driven to get the Stone to the point I would have killed Mr. Potter if I'd – I'd had the chance, if he hadn't – " Quirrell could sense the fear building in Angelica. "The amount of pain he can cause, the punishments…he does not treat disappointment lightly. And the threats…But those aren't good excuses for how I acted. I should have been strong, but I just crumbled."

Uncertain of how she felt about Quirrell's truth Angelica stood silently, feeling on the one hand that she never actually knew Quirrell, that she'd been misled all this time into thinking he was a wonderful, kind, brilliant, and unselfish man. At this point her eyes adjusted to the dark and she could make out his head and saw that his turban was gone and that his blistered face was filled with sincere worry. Still, she didn't know what to say to him.

"Angie, please trust that I wish I had not been so weak and selfish. I know that nothing I say will change the way I acted. It was best that things ended the way they did, I couldn't have lived with myself had I been responsible for his return to power." He shuddered and gripped Angelica's wrist tighter. As if he knew what she was thinking, he began, "Everything that – that _happened_, between us was entirely by my own will. I only wish I hadn't let you down, that we could have spent more time together."

With this Angelica freed her wrist from his hand and threw herself into his arms, "I'm so sorry," she said muffled by tears and his robe.

"For what?" He asked, smoothing her hair with his right hand.

"That you had to go through so much horror. And," She paused, "I'm sorry I couldn't help you."

"You did, or at least you made this year easier to bear."

"But I couldn't help enough…"

Quirrell held her closer and was silent for a while. "No one could."

Angelica felt safe and happy again for the first time in weeks. In the midst of their conversation, and particularly being held in his arms Angelica completely forgot about O. exams, the growing rift she had caused between herself and her friends, and the fact that Quirrell had died a week before.

"You're going to wake up soon."

"What?"

"You're sleeping and you're going to wake up soon, but before you do I need to tell you something I should have earlier – I love you, Angie."

Her eyes started to glaze over from tears of happiness, but also of knowing their time was almost up. She gripped the back of his robe tighter, excess fabric gathered between her fingers. "I love you too, I've loved you since third year, don't – don't leave me again…" she mumbled; now fully crying.

Quirrell kissed her, which stopped the crying for a moment. "I know you don't want to wake up – I don't want you to leave either, but you can't stay here right now. Don't worry, we will find each other again."


End file.
